Spread Out Your Open Hands
by Friday913
Summary: The only way to escape the tragic memories is with drugs, and if he has to, that’s how he’ll do it. Based off the song Swept Away -Flyleaf. Rated T for safety.


**I do not own**___The Outsiders___**(**although I wish I did**)**__**or **_Swept Away_

**All rights** go to S.E. Hinton and Flyleaf (:

AN-My friend kindly pointed out that _Swept Away _reminded her of a drug dealer and since my mind is 90% Outsiders I was like (in mind) Steve. Steve. Steve Randle. And then since I am having like an insomnia night and cant sleep I decided to write a one shot…. Enjoy (:

_**The evil fell from your pretty mouth wrapped in your classic voice  
Angelic in your syntax, demonic in your motive your pretty eyes don't know  
That the water flowing from this well isn't fresh.**_

"Can you hurry up? You are as slow as a snail!" He hissed at the drug dealer. Steve was in a chronic state of withdraw and could barely even get up this morning from lack of energy. All of his energy left his body when Sod—he stopped his thoughts and cursed at the drug dealer who was attempting to find the cocaine he promised.

Steve timidly pulled on his shirt collar to try to push the thoughts of all the men he killed. _I did it to live! Its not my fault they were trying to kill me_, he thought to himself. _They had families and friends just like you! _He coiled at the thought of the families when they saw their husbands come back in the small black coffin. Or what it was like for their kids to grow up without their father at his cost.

_They killed Soda. They deserved what they got. No you killed him. You didn't see the boom—you could have warned him!_ With the war in his head—the drug dealers voice was almost inaudible in his ears.

He thanked him, but his voice was hard to find. He stalked down the street and unknowingly walked to the Curtis' house. He knew in the gang, or what's left of the gang, minds they thought he was a hero. That was what was killing him.

Flashes of Soda's death came to his mind and he just wanted to run to a hidden place to consume the drug in hand. He did just that.

_**Your clothes are smooth and spotless  
The air is putrid sewage downwind of your pressed church clothes**__  
_

He sprinted to the closed DX and grabbed his old key that he never returned and hid in the garage. He lit a clean match and touched the flame to the white powdery substance. He breathed deeply; letting the familiar feeling run through his body. Forgetting everything was the only way to make it pass life keeping his sanity.

After overriding the bad memories; he left for his house. There was the only place that stayed normal. His dad was still an ass and his mom was still gone. Nothings change, and it probably never will. Walking airily into his house that had a heavy smell of alcohol and tobacco; Steve manage to make it safely to his room without hallucinating like he usually did when he let the drug enter his body.

Steve sat on his bed and looked around the well-known room, but for some reason it didn't feel the same. All the memories of the times Soda came over were gone. It seemed as though they left with him. Steve laid on the relaxing bed and his eyes unhurriedly closed; letting him drift off into a deep sleep.

_**Your eyes are black and empty  
Your deeds are just for showing how big and bright your fake smile glows**_

_They were running for their lives—just Steve and Soda. They had to make it to the building on their side of the war—they needed shelter. "Hurry up! Steve you're gonna get yourself killed since you run like a blade of grass. It's like you ain't even moving!" Soda joked. Steve cracked a grin, but he knew this wasn't time for joking around. Explosions were all around him and deep inside he was scared for his and Soda's life. Three more weeks. Just three more weeks until we get out of this hell. Steve thought to himself._

_They made it to the building, but unfortunately Steve had to go back out to kill anyone who was getting nearer to the building. Since he had the best aim he shouldn't complain. He hid behind a bush that wasn't far from the building that held about sixty-five people, including Soda. While watching for Vietnamese solders the building blew up. Staring at it in shock for a moment, Steve didn't see a solider from the other side steal their weapons that were out in the open. Soda's voice repeated in his head, "Can't wait 'til we get home."_

Waking up in a cold sweat, Steve thought bitterly, "Not _we,_ me. Only me." Tears of anger and sadness trickled down his cheek and for the first time since his friend died he went to the grave he was buried at. He practically heard Soda saying in a strict voice to stop the drugs. Although convinced that it was just the wind he tried his best to stop. "If only you made it through those three last weeks, buddy_," _He said out loud while dropping a DX hat on the grave. Along with the hat he dropped the last of his drugs and paced away from the grave.

_We spread our open hands  
And he is rising up  
Repairing all that broken  
Look at the healing come  
We spread our open hands  
Forgiveness holds them up  
We're swept away by this.  
_

This was actually my first piece of fanfic that I didn't have a beta reader for! O.O

Please Review and Flame as you wish!! (Reviews are better welcomed then Flames but you can Flame it all you want)

Nighttttt 3


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